


Sight

by buttheyrebrothers



Series: 5 senses [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Pre-Series, Sam Leaves for Stanford
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-30
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-06 23:51:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4241397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttheyrebrothers/pseuds/buttheyrebrothers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lights flickering in the pouring rain. The taillights of a bus disappearing in the distance. A Sam-shaped emptiness next to you in the unlit car.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sight

Lights flickering in the pouring rain. The taillights of a bus disappearing in the distance. A Sam-shaped emptiness next to you in the unlit car. Tears, steadily dropping down on the black steering wheel and shaking hands reaching up to wipe them away. A deserted highway, puddles of rain reflecting the Impalas headlight, creating an eerie picture. 

Cars dispersed over the parking lot of a rundown motel, neon sign flickering, reading _Sunshine Motel_ only the _n_ and the _t_ had gone out already. Everything a bit blurred through the tears still burning in your eyes, like Sam had been the only motive worth focusing on. Carmine red door with gold lettering, reading _R37_. Empty whisky bottle on an old wooden table, next to it a harmless looking letter. Lights being still on and TV running, weapons littering the area around it. Your father sprawled on the bed closest to the door, body lax but brows still knitted up in an angry frown. 

On the other bed is a soft and worn looking hoodie, deep burgundy red a stark contrast on top of the dirty white sheets. Still unsteady hands reaching out for it, sinking into the fabric and testing its softness against callused skin. Darkness. Burgundy edges marring your peripheral sight before hands fold down the hood. There is a small stain only visible when eyes get closer for the nose to sniff on it with a deep inhale, more wet stains adding to the one already there. At least it doesn’t have to be alone.

Lights going out, one by one with every turned switch, lastly followed by the TV. Jeans hitting the floor before legs are being plugged under the covers. A dim grey wall. Blackness. 

His chest rising like each breath is the beginning of a new day. Light breaking in the depths of hazel eyes, a myriad of colors exploding, kaleidoscopic beauty blinding you. 

Shaggy brown locks bouncing with every excited step, tiny arms extended towards you, small feet eating up the space between you and him before the fourth year old is falling into your arms. 

A crooked chocolate cake with twelve burning candles and _Happy Birthday Dean_ in wobbly green letters on top of it. A brilliant dimpled smile eagerly awaiting your reaction. Eight year old face covered in chocolate but grinning like a loon. 

Five year old Sammy lying on the ground in front of the shed you were playing on. Hot tears streaming down the pale face, lips quivering when they speak your name. White and sterile hospital, bitten nails and jumping legs. Bright and big looking cast on such a small arm. A watery smile when you  draws both your initials on it immediately.

Coltish limbs flailing during wrestling matches, too much body for one person. Stubborn glint in burning eyes, chin defiantly set, mole standing as proud as the rest of him. Sweat glistening on his long neck, fragile bone of his clavicle an enticing sight. Long graceful fingers wrapped around the handle of a gun, around the neck of a beer bottle, around your forearm, around Sam’s own cock. Legs that go on forever, powerful calves and big feet, runners legs. 

Tiny waist and growing shoulders, perk bubble butt. Skin, so much skin, glowing golden like treasure waiting to be owned. Lips bitten red, swollen and wet where a pink tongue had licked them numerous times.

Almond shaped eyes looking up at you, looking down on you. A smile, a frown, a scowl, a laugh. A desperate pleading look in confused eyes, lips gravitating towards yours, darkness. Shock, rejection, heartbreak, anger. Retreating form, long legs eating up space to get away from you. 

Taillights of a bus disappearing in the dark.


End file.
